


Spoiled and Rotten

by fowo



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, High Chaos (Dishonored), Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Male Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fowo/pseuds/fowo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There lives a monster inside of Daud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoiled and Rotten

  
What is a mortal to a God? Nothing.

 But what is coin to man? Everything.

 Make yourself the god of someone else and you'll have what you desire. 

 

* * *

 

There lives a monster inside of Daud. It's always been there, he was born with it, but Daud still blames the Outsider for letting it surface.

 He always drinks alone, not valuing company, not even Billie's. Tonight, he knows it would be better to get some sleep and wake with a throbbing headache tomorrow, full of regret but with clean hands for at least this night.

 He knows, but still he gets up, grabs his coat, and is gone in a flurry of black ashes, deserting the half-emptied bottle of Old Dunwall.

 The boy is lean and slim. His features are Tyvian, but his eyes carry a darkness that Daud hasn't seen since traveling as far as Pandyssia. He has most of his teeth. His hair is short and ragged and black like tar. Daud searches for lice and he finds none.

 It's the darkest hour of the night. The kid has no madam. There's nobody watching out for him, nobody waiting for him. It's Daud or going home with empty pockets tonight. He has a name, but Daud never asks for it.

 "Twenty coin," Daud says. It's too little. It's barely a loaf of stale bread or a serving of watered down elixir for this week. Daud knows. He's been in the boy's position, yet he does not think back. He doesn't think this is worth more than that, and hardly this much to begin with. He's been in a foul mood all night and doesn't feel charitable.

The boy nods. Daud takes off his jacket and throws it aside. The boy watches. He's sitting on the mattress between dark covers. His eyes are blank and numb. Something inside of Daud wants to push his thumbs against them until they pour out, a flood of darkness to taint him.

 In the shine of the whale oil lamps, everything looks blue, and Daud imagines the boy's skin is as cold to the touch as it looks, like he's been underwater for too long, waiting for him to warm it up again. Daud's touches leave trails of angry red marks and goosebumps that throw uneven, ugly shadows. The boy whines when Daud bites his skin, and the sound makes Daud painfully hard.

 The boy foolishly thinks taking the initiative would be a good decision. Daud growls in the back of his throat when he reaches for his breeches, opening them and slipping white, spidery fingers inside.  His smooth palm cupping Daud makes him snap, and he grabs the boy's hair and forces him down to his knees. Another soft noise leaves the boy's pale lips, and it's _so good_. Daud brushes the thumb of his right hand over the head of his erection, smudging first precum.

 "Open up," Daud commands, and the boy, sitting on his knees before him, obeys. Dark eyes set on him, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue obediently. Still gripping the short hair, Daud draws him close and pushes inside.

 The kid is sloppy and noisy as he sucks him off, and Daud controls his breath as he watches him in the half-dark. He keeps a steady grip on his hair, but lets him do his thing, for now. He watches as the boy slowly runs his tongue along his length, experiencing every inch of it as he slowly bobs his head under Daud's steady grip to his hair. His lips get wet and red as he moves, beating veins throbbing against the soft skin. He looks up to Daud from bottomless eyes, and Daud feels his spine tingle.

 "Enough," he says, leaking into the boy's mouth as he draws back, breaking a thin thread of fluids.

 The boy licks his lips as he sits back a little, wiping the back of his hand over his wet mouth. "Do you want me on my knees?" he asks. His voice is off. It's the first time he's spoken since Daud asked him in the streets if he's available.  Daud had considered it, but the voice has ruined it. Now he needs to see the face, the eyes, red tongue moving behind pale lips.

He just shakes his head and watches as the boy lays back on the bed, spreading himself out for him.

 Daud lowers himself onto his body, kissing and biting the mouth that carries his taste; the mouth he imagines to say cruel, taunting words to him with somebody else's voice.

He tears the boy open when he claims him, savoring it when the numbness in his eyes makes way for pain, the instinct to flee visible in shaking irises. Daud presses his hand over the boy's mouth, earning a weak struggle, white thighs twitching around his hips as he takes him.

 "Stay still," Daud growls, face sunk into the bend of the boy's neck, inhaling deeply. He smells of the sea and the wind, and his sweat tastes like fear and sex when Daud licks greedily along his slender throat.

 The boy obeys weakly, and hearing his ragged breathing under his coarse hand makes Daud's vision go dark with lust. His fingers dig into Daud's shoulders. He's not wearing any rings, and there's grime under his nails, but it's enough. Daud can feel his erection rub against his stomach, through his hair, making him sticky and making his skin crawl. He can't keep silent any more, a growl rumbling in his throat as he takes the boy. The ache is almost too much, and at the same time, it's not enough. He wants the Outsider to say his name, to sound as weak and beaten and mortal as this boy.

 The boy whines, twitching and writhing as he comes between their bodies. Daud watches those black eyes roll back, lashes fluttering with ecstasy. He's gasping against Daud's palm. Daud feels his lips move against him. He doesn't let go, not yet.  A few more hard, selfish thrusts into the body beneath him, and he's done. He fills the boy up, panting against his neck, and releases him. The boy gasps for air greedily, but his hands are soft when they trail through the hair on Daud's neck. The fingers move to his jaw, and Daud closes his eyes when a curious finger brushes over scar tissue. He allows it.

 "That was interesting," the boy mutters. The voice doesn't match, but the words do. Daud looks at him again.

The boy shows the faintest of smiles. "Will you come back to see me?"

 "Not when you get predictable," Daud answers and gets up to redress and leave. He tosses the boy a shiny twenty, and the boy with the dark eyes smirks as he catches it, illuminated by the light of whale oil lamps, sheets draped around him as he sits on the bed like on a shrine while Daud leaves into the night.

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Spoiled and Rotten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7282843) by [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/pseuds/Kess)




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